Hello, Governor
by stephaniand
Summary: Two women, one prison. Losing control has never felt so good.
1. Submission Under Duress

**No Copyright Infrigement Intended**

**Title: **Hello, Governor

**Author: **Stephaniand

**Rating: **T

**Genre: **Romance/Crime/Drama

**Perspective: **Erica Davidson First Person

**Pairing: **Erica/Franky

**Note:** Look me up on Twitter for information on updates

_Submission Under Duress_

* * *

"No," she laughed, "why am I really here?"

I was getting frustrated. I couldn't for the life of me imagine why I had called her into my office. Oh yeah, I thought she could actually help me, a connection within these prison walls, to bridge the gap between myself and the rest of the girls, and find out information. Information I would need if I was to build a case against Jacqueline Holt for the murder of Bea's daughter. Franky Doyle wasn't my only choice, but she definitely was my first choice. I wanted her. But she was making it so difficult to focus on business instead of pleasure, and I was having quite a hard time of it already, with her just sitting there in front of me. She put her feet propped up on my desk, head tilted towards me questioningly, that rebellious twinkle in her eyes as she watched me, that swoon-worthy smile in place. I raised my eyebrows at her. She was too comfortable for her own good.

"If you don't want to help me," I told her, "then just leave."

She looked incredulous, "You don't care about the women."

"Oh," I sighed in defeat and frustration, rolling my eyes to the ceiling, "Here we go again."

"It's all bullshit," She definitely knew to call me out on it. She waited until I was looking at her before speaking again, "You're hiding in here with us," I watched her, my expression blank, "You get off on being here."

Why did she have to make everything about pleasure, my pleasure? As if I was some kind of beast hungering for enjoyment. As if I was denying myself constantly, repressing myself. As if I could have so, so much if I just let myself go. As if she'd just love to indulge me. I had to stop her right there, before she said or did something we might both regret, and enjoy.

"Get out." I said firmly, getting off the desk, walking quickly towards the door. But she wouldn't let me.

She followed me, "And the thing that scares you the most," she whispered lowly into my mouth as she pushed me up against the wall, her hand on my hip. My eyes were wide, watching her every move, like a cornered animal, my lips pressed together tightly, "Is that when you're fucking him…" I couldn't breathe, "You're thinking of me." She finished, so knowing, so cocky. So defiantly, undeniably right.

I remembered that day. That fateful day she filled with suggestion, with temptation. She seduced my mind and body into a trance-like state of hunger. Constant, unforgiving hunger for exotic pleasures, a warm body to burn with a lick of my tongue, a slap of my firm hand, a crackle of my whip. I relished in kinks, and her eyes told me she desperately wanted to indulge my growing need. She'd brought me so much trouble with just a few words. I had watched her shamelessly, hungrily, as she ravished that girl from her block, watched her as she kissed her way down her neck, my hand making its way down my body, unconsciously. I imagined it was me who was under her, me who she ravished, taking me, ruining me forever for anyone else.

And that, she did.

That night I dove straight for my husband. Nevertheless, I didn't have any desire for the security and comfort he would never fail to provide. I needed some relief, from all the desire I had been put through, it was maddening. That, however, he just couldn't provide. But I knew exactly who did. When things finally started to get back to normal, as did our sex life, the only thing that would bring me any sort of enjoyment, any sort of relief from the frustration of seeing her every day, not being able to push her up against a wall, or into a room, and fuck her senselessly, of the sexual tension that weighted down the air around us, words unsaid so heavy, wanting to express themselves with lustful touch. The only thing that would bring me any sort of pleasure these days was imagining it was her who constantly took me on my marriage bed at night. It had been happening more and more over the course of the past few days. My husband wasn't complaining, which wasn't to say that he wasn't suspicious. But I couldn't help it. As the need for her grew stronger and stronger, I found myself waking up in the mornings soaked in sweat, panting heavily, so often. I found myself pushing my husband against a wall as soon as I got home, pleasuring myself if it was necessary, her image always on my mind. I was blinded by desire. And she knew it.

I panicked and tried to push her off of me quickly, harshly. I needed to escape. I needed her to go. Before I did something bad, so very bad, and it would feel oh so good, "Get out!" I exclaimed, louder than the last time, trying to walk away again.

Her skilled hands grabbed at my hips and at my waist, pulling me up against her body, pressing me up against the wall, crashing our lips together.

Wait, what?

I tried my best to fend her off, but I couldn't. As I pushed my hands against different parts of her body, I felt her skin, her skin burning for mine, and I suddenly just wanted to touch her all over. Wanted to touch every part of her skin. My lips told her to get out one more time, even as my hands traveled up her arms and shoulder, grabbing on to her neck. We were fighting, and I was losing. This push and pull of bodies would not end well for me, and I was enjoying every second of it.

My body stopped fighting and I kissed her back, just as passionately, relishing the taste of those lips. I wanted to eat her up alive. To consume her as she did my mind, my body, and now my soul. Her hand traveled down my arm to leave my body completely.

She broke away, grinning at a job well done, tongue licking at her lips, eyes glinting playfully, and walked out of my office.

I stood there. Ruined.


	2. My Wildest Fantasy

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **Hello, Governor

**Author: **Stephaniand

**Rating: **T (I'm teasing you. But rating will eventually change to M. This means the story will not show up automatically. If you do not find the story, change the Rating on your fanfiction search browser)

**Genre: **Romance/Crime/Drama

**Perspective: **Erica Davidson First Person

**Pairing: **Erica/Franky

**Note:** Look me up on Twitter for information on updates. Thanks for the reviews.

_My Wildest Fantasy_

* * *

The prison was complete chaos.

I watched Vera and Will as they walked past my office, each with a hand on Bea. She had a stoic, blank look on her face. To be truthful, it filled me with dread. Not only had I supported this woman, but the way she was walking down that hall, completely covered in another woman's blood, with that blank look on her face. She was now charged with attempted murder of her husband, and the murder of Jacqueline Holt.

As I watched them go, my expression stoic as well, my posture stick-straight, my gaze cold, lips stretched in a thin line. It wasn't often that something would pierce my stone-cold business-like exterior. I had to make sure I had the situation under control.

I turned around and opened the door to my office. The women would be pretty riled up. I pressed a number of the phone, readying all the preparations so that my staff would have them under control. Control, I was in control.

With the Bea situation many women, especially those in her block, would be looking for something to do, someone to blame. They would start asking questions I wasn't currently ready to answer. But I would be ready. By the time they did. I was aware of the consideration that she put into her work with these women, but truly believed it made a change, that it kept things from causing too big of a problem for myself. This way I could handle it. Then there were the women that had been with Jacs for the full ride, those who had been faithful to her despite all the things she'd done. She knew it wasn't out of warmth and love, just out of a need to survive. Staying with Jacs had given them safety and protection from the woman herself. Now that woman was dead. Most likely, however, they wouldn't just be wandering around without a leader. If I knew Franky, she'd probably be jumping at the first chance to get all those women on her side.

Franky.

For two seconds there I thought maybe she could stop thinking about her. I had come to realize something, though, now that Jacs was dead.

In Wentworth's women's prison there were two women in charge. One did it because she needed to feel in control. The other just did it for the thrill. She knew what she wanted, and when she wanted it, she just took it.

Like she had taken me. Against a wall. In my own office.

Now I was leaning on the desk with both hands grasping the edge, my eyes slowly closing, mouth opening to try to take even breaths as I imagined Franky coming up behind me, grabbing my neck as I leaned back into her touch, her hot breath on my neck, hips suddenly and roughly pushing at mine from behind, my own breasts pressed hard against the cold wood of the desk…

I gulped and licked my lips, a hand covering my mouth, suddenly feeling very, very hungry. I stood up quickly and walked out the door, destination clear in my mind.

The moment I walked out into the sunlit prison yard where the women spent their free time, Vera at her side as my escort, I knew I had made a mistake.

A little crowd was gathered around what seemed to be nothing more than a friendly match of basketball. A match Franky was quite actively taking part in. She had the ball, and I decided to spend some precious moments standing stock-still in the middle of the yard, watching the muscles ripple under Franky's sun-kissed skin, swoon-worthy smile in place as always, sure that that same ball which bounced up and down under her hand would soon be going into the net. She grinned and licked her lips, a mischievous glint in her eye as a woman tried to basically pounce on her. She turned her back to the huge woman and bounced the ball a few more times, swiftly zigzagging her way across three or four women, all on her own, it seemed, and stretched her arm, as her feet left the ground.

The ball went through the net smoothly and Franky dangled on the metal for a few more moments before she let herself fall, smiling joyfully at the women who'd played with her and high-fiving some. She sure loved winning. She had been talking to a girl when suddenly she noticed the governor looking at her, staring at her, in the most inappropriate way. She grinned and raised her head, eyes running their course up and down my body, the same way she'd like her hands to. She turned her body towards me.

"See something you like, Erica?" she asked as she came closer. Some women stood up to follow her, but she just shook her heads at them with a grin.

"Maybe I do," I threw back at her, my voice low and still ringing of some left-over arousal from her daydream, the protagonist of which was staring right at her in the most delicious way. There was also a surprised glint in her eyes. Normally she'd have to coax me a bit more to get me to say things like this, what I really wanted to say.

We just stared into each other's eyes for a spell, her gaze lowering shamelessly to my lips, tongue flickering out to wet her own. I wanted to feel that tongue on my body so badly it was embarrassing. My mouth opened just slightly and my gaze flickered between her eyes and mouth quickly.

Suddenly Vera touched my arm, "Miss Davidson?"

I had completely forgotten she was even there. It was like a bucket of cold water. I turned towards her. Vera, you Buzz-Kill. You insufferable, worthless, piece of… Wait. This is just the frustration talking. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to refrain myself from killing the woman. But oh, if eyes could kill. She'd be dead and I'd be in this prison by now.

"What is it?" I asked her, trying to keep my frustration under control.

"Is there a reason we're here?" Her eyes kept flitting over to the prisoner's smug face with her eyebrow raised.

Questioning my orders in front of the other prisoners? "Miss Bennett," I said slowly, lowly, coldly, staring at her in silent rage, "you will do as I say, when I say so, and how I say so," I firmly informed her, "and most specially," I emphasized each word, "you will _not_ question my authority."

Vera started to protest, but I simply sent her away. The inmates were returning to their cells, and Franky chose that very moment to pass by my side slowly, oh so slowly, and whisper in my ear, hot air trailing down my neck and making me moan quietly, but desperately.

"I love it when you talk like that," she whispered, letting her lips ghost over the sensitive skin on my neck, "You _will _be dreaming of me tonight," she said firmly, smugly, "you know that don't you?"

"Yes." I didn't recognize my voice. It had lowered an octave in the time it took me to turn my head around, eyes diving straight for the lips, something my own mouth couldn't do. When I looked up, her eyes had been trained on my lips as well. Her tongue darted out as she grinned playfully up at me again, probably seeing the need, the helplessness in my eyes. Thriving on it.

"Good." She walked away. And I thought I heard her whisper, "So will I."


	3. Temptation and Obligation

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **Hello, Governor

**Author: **Stephaniand

**Rating: **T (I'm teasing you. But rating will eventually change to M. This means the story will not show up automatically. If you do not find the story, change the Rating on your fanfiction search browser)

**Genre: **Romance/Crime/Drama

**Perspective: Erica Davidson First Person**

**Pairing: **Erica/Franky

**Note:** Look me up on Twitter stephaniand for information on updates. Thanks for the reviews.

_Temptation and Obligation_

* * *

"Franky."

The laughing stopped. One of the women tried to call Mr. Jackson's attention but he ignored her. Said woman turned around, an arm around one of the women, a big, unpreoccupied smile on her face.

"The governor wants you in her office."

She raised a cocky eyebrow and grinned. He gave her a hard look.

"Now."

I watched the whole exchange on my computer screen, watching the expression on Franky's face. Then she turned around and looked straight at me, through the camera, as if she knew I was watching her at that moment. I could not take my eyes off the screen. My hands were wound together expectantly. Her grin turned to a small smile, and she winked before letting Will escort her to my office.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. A week had passed since our kiss, and she hadn't tried anything again. I was sure the torturous and fire-hot touches as our skin brushed passing each other in the hallway were complete accidents, none intentional. The way our eyes traveled down each other's bodies, not missing a step, heads turning, for silent gazes to connect in a secret exchange, taking every part of the body as a feast for the eyes, removing each item of clothing slowly, never using our hands. Until our eyes parted, her smile remained, and my panic set in. Maybe the reason she hadn't pushed me into against the wall, into a side room, or simply taken me on the very floor like I wished she would, was that I'd been trying my very best to avoid her. Since our conversation outside in the yard the week before, Vera had started asking questions, a completely inappropriate behavior if she wanted to stay at my side as second-in-command in my opinion, but I couldn't deny that she was right in a way. My behavior had taken a rather strange turn in relation to the prisoner. And Vera was not the only one to notice.

Now, however, I was completely obligated to see her. Unfortunately, I had no choice on the matter. This wasn't something any of the women could know, either. I was at odds with myself for a moment trying to decide whether to make Will stay in order for me to be able to keep myself in check. I knew Franky wouldn't refrain herself in the least though, so it didn't make any difference.

Way too soon, the door was being opened and there she was, sauntering into my office to flop down on a chair comfortably, never taking her piercing eyes off of mine.

"I'd been waiting for your call," she said, with that little smirk on her face. I narrowed my eyes and smiled at her good-natured teasing even as I turned my head towards Will, who had started to speak.

"Should I stay, governor?" he asked, hands clasped behind his back, a serious look on his face.

"No, Will," Apparently my mouth had decided for itself in the end, "You can go now."

He took one last suspicious look at the prisoner before exiting the room, not closing the door. I sighed, frustrated, and stood up to go close the door.

"Good idea, Erica," Franky's laughing eyes followed me around the room, "We wouldn't want them hearing us."

I turned my back to the door and locked it, looking at her the whole time, "Don't try anything Franky." I warned her.

She stood up slowly, and walked across the room to where I was standing, not moving a muscle, even when she was less than a foot from me. So when she spoke, hot air was being blown on my tight lips.

"You liked it," she looked between my eyes and my mouth, and her smile had disappeared, "You want to do it again."

"Franky…" I warned her, my voice low, my eyes intense but hooded.

Her smirk returned. It seemed like I might have lucked out on this one. I didn't know whether to be immensely relieved or heartbreakingly disappointed. All in all, as I walked back to my seat behind the desk and she took up my place leaning on the door, arms crossed and eyes challenging me to make a move; I knew I was terribly frustrated.

"They've decided to give you a second chance," I informed her. Her expression didn't change, she had either little to no interest at all in what I was saying, and as she leaned back on the chair, head tilted back and eyes looking straight at me, she seemed much more interested in the guarded expressions and strict postures my face and body took. I continued, "If you still want me to, I will continue to assist you in choosing and studying for a career for when you finish your time here."

Her face lit up and she leaned forward, "I'll be looking forward to that."

I couldn't help but smile. It had been more or less a peaceful week at the prison. Sure enough, there was still the whole matter of Bea and Jacs. The woman's husband had shown up at the prison, with another, younger, woman on his arm, and caused an incredibly unnecessary riot of surprising proportion. He threatened to sue me, in fact. After some coaxing, however, he finally seemed to understand that this had been a completely possible situation, given the personality of the woman and the fact that the place she'd stayed in for the past few years hadn't been exactly, safe, to say the least. She had been working on a plan to increase security for both staff workers and prisoners, and even herself. Things were more or less controlled between the women. Franky had kept them grounded. They were always worried for Bea, of course, but there wasn't much to do about it. Any argument seemed pretty futile accounting to her innocence due to previous charges. Unfortunate, but inevitable. Even the higher ranked officers had noticed Franky's improvement, and with Jacs' confessions, her name had been pretty much cleared. That, in addition to her good conduct and a word or two of recommendation the governor herself might have put in, served to insure that she would get out of this place with a possible future of some sorts.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

She stood up and leaned across the table, putting her hands on the desk. "So eager…" she suddenly smiled, as if she knew something. Maybe a twitch of my lips, the way my eyes took in all of her, "Can I go now?"

My eyes saw her lips form the words that my brain wouldn't process, "Maybe you should."

I saw them form a grin, tongue slipping out teasingly, "Maybe I will." She walked to the door, and turned her head around at the last minute, "See you tomorrow, Erica." An emerald green eye winked at me, and then she was gone.

The door banged and shook me out of my trance.

This wasn't going to be easy.


	4. The Study Session

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **Hello, Governor

**Author: **Stephaniand

**Rating: **T (I'm teasing you. But rating will eventually change to M. This means the story will not show up automatically. If you do not find the story, change the Rating on your fanfiction search browser)

**Genre: **Romance/Crime/Drama

**Perspective: **Erica Davidson First Person

**Pairing: **Erica/Franky

**Note:** Look me up on Twitter stephaniand for information on updates. Thanks for the reviews. So sorry for the wait.

_The Study Session_

* * *

The door opened.

I all but jumped and turned my head quickly, my Auburn hair falling around my back. I had been startled out of my thoughts. The sound had been amplified by the complete and utter quiet of the library. I crossed my legs and my eyes followed Franky's form as she walked over to the table and around it, taking a seat in front of me, never taking her eyes off of mine. It was only when she was sat down and comfortable that she opened her mouth, and, after a close observation of my body and expression, leaned forward and spoke, with a seriousness that was, one could say, uncharacteristic of her.

"You wanted to see me, Governor?" She said quietly, her eyes firmly on my face, gaze penetrating my eyes. As always, she could see right through my actions, my words, even before I spoke. Then again, I wasn't so good at hiding my intentions, I realized, as my eyes followed every word that came out of her lips, with a hooded gaze. It didn't take a cop to figure it out, and thankfully, as I glanced around, saw none of them were paying any attention to us at the moment. When my eyes landed on her again, the smirk had returned. I narrowed my eyes warily at her, and regarded her presence as one would a hungry and predatory animal. The only difference was, however, she was completely aware and in control of her every action; something that had been evading me lately. My hands found the books on the table that I had carefully picked out on her, and I tried my best to shoot a small, but cordial smile. I could only hope that she would cooperate.

"I thought maybe we could give this," I gestured between us, to the books between us, "another try."

She seemingly found my fakeness quite amusing, but something changed in her eyes when I spoke. She leaned forward conspiratorially, and whispered earnestly.

"Erica," she said lowly, reassuringly, and strangely, with not a tint of amusement in her voice. Whatever it was, it was drawing me closer, "if you wanted to get me on my back," against a wall, on my desk, on the floor… A tongue flicked out to briefly wet her lips, and incite a small gasp from hungry lips, "you only have to ask."

I replied quickly, "I don't want—" I said quickly, before realizing not only my eyes but my voice had dropped in pitch, a lot, and I had basically breathed out the words. I cleared my throat loudly and sat back, blinking a couple of times before my eyes focused again, back stick straight "I don't want to get you…" My eyes did their best to stay focused on hers, and for a moment I felt in control, I was defying her, and we were both on the same ground, staring intently at one another, "…On your back."

A few moments passed. She opened her mouth, but I didn't give her time to say a single word. God knows what would happen. I started to rearrange the books, randomly to make it seem as if I was looking for one. My head tilted slightly downwards but glancing up at her laid-back figure perched on the library chair across from me.

She watched me, not sparing the even the most cursory glance at the books. I quickly caught up to the fact that I would have to be the one to take this conversation in the right direction.

Once everything was settled, I had my composure back, and my exterior was as cool as ever. It was my insides that didn't stop heating up to her every look and movement, that made my eyes wide and wary. I decided on a question, "Are you still interested in law?"

"Why, Erica?" She smiled sweetly and leaned forward, "Are you worried about me?"

I opened the book and flipped through it mindlessly, my eyes leaving her face, "This is something very important for your future. You need to make sure you have somewhere to go once you leave this place, something to do." My mouth didn't stop, "This could also make the difference on whether or not you come back to this place, and many women don't have the chance, and they certainly aren't given a choice." I said this all in a quick, low, clear voice.

She just looked at me like she had heard not one word of what I had just said, a distracted smile on her creamy face, "You didn't answer my question."

I looked back up and stopped flipping through the pages, not missing a beat, "You didn't answer mine."

Again there was silence, and it was absolutely charged. A silent battle, no words, no punches, no lips, no hands. Just eyes, daring the other to make the inevitable move that would set us off.

A cough from another table broke my concentration. I looked back down to the book and pushed it slightly away from me. I needed a break if I was to get through this one hour in one piece, "I saw a book on law which was much better structured on shelf 9," I said, my voice level, "I'll go get it now." I moved quickly, leaving the table before she had a chance to utter a word, and I brushed my hand on top of the book while I passed by her side, and her eyes still hadn't left mine, "Look this over while I'm gone. I'm sure it'll be helpful."

I made my way over to shelf 9, but as soon as I was behind it, I leaned on it slightly, pressing my back against the comforting sturdiness of the old mahogany, and breathed. Just breathed, in, and out. I tried to gather my thoughts, and was making progress. I was about to turn around and actually take a look at the books before Franky called my bluff and came looking for me. As I felt a soft, yet firm hand close around my arm, I realized.

It was too late.


End file.
